


Campaigning for Your Heart

by at1stsoo



Series: Kaisoo Politics [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comedy, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Politics, Powerbottoming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9726170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/at1stsoo/pseuds/at1stsoo
Summary: Hillary supporter Kyungsoo meets Jongin, who is canvassing for Bernie. Election year has never been so heated.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Originally written for the For Kadi Only fic exchange based on a prompt from littlestcandle (the first line of the description). When I saw it, I screamed and had to write it. You do NOT need to know anything about American politics to enjoy the fic, though you might appreciate the characterization more if you're familiar with Clinton/Bernie supporter stereotypes. Lots of love to my dear friend indigomini, who beta'd this at the last second and encouraged me!
> 
> *Big thanks to [Ari](https://twitter.com/mmallow_squishy) for making this poster for the fic!  
> 

 

**SEPTEMBER 9, 2015: First Day of Autumn Quarter**

 

Kyungsoo loves autumn in Chicago. The cool breeze is a lovely contrast to the summer heat he experienced in the Hamptons with his parents. The leaves crunch pleasantly under his Louis Vuitton dress shoes as he strides onto campus, happy to be back. He’s in such a good mood, even the sight of a gaggle of students blocking the campus walkway doesn’t put him off at first. The rag tag group, dressed in an array of fashion sins such as cut-off jean jackets and non-ironic berets, is accosting people walking by and animatedly waving clipboards as they prattle on about something. Kyungsoo’s curiosity gets the better of him and he squints to better make out the slogan on the back of one girl’s shirt.

 

BERNIE 2016

 

That’s enough to make Kyungsoo veer left down an alternate path to avoid the group. Unfortunately, one boy seems to have noticed him eyeing the pack of canvassers and jogs after him, his messy blonde hair not even bouncing as he trots, having apparently been purposefully coiffed to stick out in random directions. “Hey there!” he greets with a smile trying to compete with the sun’s brilliant rays. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

 

For the sake of the pretty day, Kyungsoo half-suppresses his eye roll and speaks before the other has a chance to really launch into a pitch and waste his breath. “Don’t bother. I’m a Hillary supporter.”

 

“Oh, so you’re a Democrat? Awesome. I am, too, but what our party really needs this electi–“

 

“I _said_ , don’t bother.” Kyungsoo ignores the colorful flyer being held out to him and refuses to make eye contact with the boy, hoping this ends the discussion.

 

But the canvasser persists, walking backwards and still waving the paper sheet at him. “If you’ll just take this succinct info sheet, you’ll see why Bernie Sanders is the _far_ superior candidate for anyone who truly believes in liberalism.”

 

Fed up, Kyungsoo stops and calmly turns toward the Sander’s fan, accepting the flyer. The tall boy grins at him in victory. Looking him dead in the eye, Kyungsoo rips the sheet in half and then drops it in the recycling bin conveniently located right behind the blonde. In the process, the Hillary supporter breaches the boy’s personal space, brushing against the taller’s arm as he maintains his frigid eye contact. “Oops, I lost that one. Care to give me another?” he challenges with an arched brow.

 

The hipster gapes at Kyungsoo, speechless, before narrowing his eyes as he lets out of a huff of disbelief.

 

“Didn’t think so. You should switch to the winning team and vote Clinton.” With that, Kyungsoo checks his gold Rolex and noting the time, strides away without a further goodbye. There’s no way he’s letting a socialist make him late on the first day.

 

Kyungsoo arrives in the classroom 15 minutes early and selects his preferred seat. Second row, two seats in from the aisle. He proceeds to set up his things on the small desk area in front of him: a fresh notebook, two pens (in case one runs out of ink), a green highlighter, and tiny sticky notes to flag the ‘absolutely cannot forget these’ revelations. He’s been looking forward to this senior seminar class: It’s not every political science major’s luck that they can take the upper level seminar on Campaign Politics during a presidential campaign year.

 

Brushing off a stray piece of lint that somehow attached itself to his blazer between the time he left his apartment and now, Kyungsoo smiles at several of his fellow senior PoliSci majors as they trickle into the room. An auburn-haired boy, dressed in a classic white button-down and navy slacks, strides in and stops by Kyungsoo’s row.

 

“Hey, Soo. Finally back from the Hamptons?” the boy asks with an approving glance over Kyungsoo’s light tan while giving a friendly bro-handshake. “Wish I could’ve gotten out of my internship for at least a week to join everyone.” Kyungsoo nods in acknowledgement. Their families usually summered there together, and it was distressingly quiet without the other boy around. “You’re in your usual spot, I see.”

 

“Just as I imagine you’ll be taking the third row, Baekhyun,” he replies drolly, “so you can hide behind me and hope the professor won’t notice when you’re on your phone.”

 

Baekhyun chuckles and slides into the seat directly behind Kyungsoo. “You know it. Hey, are we still on for flyer distributions later this week?”

 

“Yep. I’ve already coordinated with Junmyeon. I’ll be getting them from campaign headquarters after class.” Kyungsoo turns to face the front just as the door opens again.

 

Their professor, Dr. Lee Jinki, enters the classroom and greets them all warmly. “Good to see so many familiar faces,” the aging man says, nodding at the dozen or so students in the classroom and sharing a particularly approving smile with Kyungsoo. “Taking attendance will be a breeze. You’ve all received a copy of the syllabus via email,yes?  Then let’s get started.”

 

It’s about 10 minutes into class, and Kyungsoo has already filled two pages full of notes when the door flies open with a bang and a student bursts into the room panting. Kyungsoo startles in his seat and gives the newcomer the stink eye for interrupting a riveting discussion on campaign donation limits before his eyes bug out in shock. It’s that Bernie guy from the lawn.

 

“Sorry, was caught up in a canvassing debrief,” Bernie-guy wheezes out as he stumbles over to take a seat front and center. Unkempt blonde hair, bronze skin, and the ratty collar of a blue jean jacket now perfectly block Kyungsoo’s view of the professor at the podium.

 

Kyungsoo huffs and furrows his brow in irritation. Who is this guy, anyway? He knows all the senior Poli Sci majors.

 

“Ah, Jongin! Glad you’ll be joining us. Everyone, this is Jongin, a junior who I had the pleasure of mentoring through an independent study this summer,” Dr. Lee addresses the class.

 

“But sir,” Kyungsoo leans to the right to try to make eye contact with the professor around the offending character in the seat before him, interjecting before he can stop himself. “Isn’t this class only for seniors?” He side eyes this ‘Jongin’ with a tense glare.

 

The boy tosses an annoyed look over his shoulder that screams ‘mind your own business’ but straightens up upon recognizing Kyungsoo. His mouth forms a puckered little “o” that eases out into a smarmy smile that matches the impish twinkle in his eyes.

 

“Yes, it usually is, Kyungsoo, but I decided to make an exception for Jongin. He’s very passionate about the election. Look out – he just might win you over,” jokes Dr. Lee with an affable wink.

 

Kyungsoo scoffs. ‘Yeah, right,’ he thinks as he tears his eyes away from the (unfortunately) mesmerizing smirk on the younger’s face. Dr. Lee continues on with the lecture, and Kyungsoo returns to his notes. He’s somewhat distracted by the noise and movement of Jongin digging around in his tattered knapsack, presumably for a writing utensil of some kind, but Kyungsoo forges on, selecting a green highlighter to emphasize his note on the $200 increase in donation limits for this election cycle. Suddenly, a tan hand with a familiar red-white-&-blue Sanders flyer obstructs half his notebook. He glares up to meet mischievous, golden brown irises.

 

“Since you, unfortunately, LOST the first one,” Jongin says with an obnoxious eyebrow wiggle.

 

Refusing to touch the distasteful flyer, Kyungsoo uses his pen to flick it off his desk and back into the younger boy’s face. “Oops,” he bites out sarcastically.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**OCTOBER 14, 2015: Mid-point of Autumn Quarter**

 

“But that gives Super PACs too much power,” Jongin protests. “Corporations already run Washington, and these rules are letting them overly influence the election process now, too. Before we know it, it’ll be practically impossible for the regular citizen’s voice to be heard over all the bribe money.” He’s already in a shit mood because of his trip home yesterday, and today’s course topic is only making things worse. He runs his hand through his pink locks in frustration. (The dye job was the result of a midnight whim inside the local drugstore, where a cheap box of Clairol Nice’n Easy caught his eye and reminded him of cotton candy. No regrets.)

 

From the seat directly behind him, he hears the familiar, silky voice of the senior who seems to make it his life mission to disagree with him at every turn. “I don’t see the problem. They’re operating within legal bounds, just raising money for causes they believe in. It’s only natural that _some_ candidates can’t get as much support from them as others, and such candidates should probably focus on strengthening their platforms if they want more financial backing from PACs,” Kyungsoo says with a sophisticated calmness in his demeanor. Somehow, the preppy boy always exudes perfect diplomacy in their class discussions, with condescension laced perfectly between the lines for anyone listening closely (and Jongin always is). What a fucking typical politician. It drives the junior crazy.

 

Jongin spins around in his chair to face the senior. “Or MAYBE we should keep corporate dollars out of the democratic selection process. How are we supposed to hear the voice of the people, the working and middle class, when it’s drowned out by the rich? So caught up in their useless high fashion and yachting, it’s not even like they’re well-informed,” he retorts, glaring daggers into Kyungsoo’s large chocolate eyes. His hand reaches out with a mind of its own to fiddle with the senior’s expensive tie, embroidered all over with the signature Ralph Lauren logo. As much as he wants to curl his fingers into the luxe fabric and yank, hard, to choke the ebony-haired snob, Jongin resists and tosses the tie up so it harmlessly flops against Kyungsoo’s face instead. A small wave of amused commotion ripples through the class. The students are accustomed by now to their regular verbal sparring, but this is new.

 

The senior’s eyes bug out for a split second before giving Jongin an unamused look with half-hooded eyes. “ _Excuse_ you,” the senior says with a calculated coolness as he smooths his tie back down. “Some people have sufficient headspace to both be informed _and_ have hobbies. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being wealthy or enjoying high quality clothes. Maybe you’d be less bitter about the world if you spent more than $7 on cheap bubblegum colored dye and took a little pride in your appearance.” Kyungsoo has the audacity to twirl a finger through his pink fringe and then flick the ends.

 

This childish reaction is more personal and intrusive than usual. That tie flip must have gotten under his skin. Jongin hears himself snapping back before he knows what he’s doing. “Well, we’re not all as content to live off of daddy’s money as you are.” He vaguely hears the guy in the third row (Baekhyun, is it?) gasp.

 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a side job running data analytics for several companies in the textile industry. I make my own—“

 

“And who got you that setup, huh? Daddy didn’t use his network to help you at all?” Jongin’s attack sounds acidic even to him, but it hits its mark perfectly if the split second of Kyungsoo flinching is any indication. A moment later, Kyungsoo leans closer into his personal space, eyes now narrowed to slits.

 

“You act like you’re so underprivileged, but I saw you getting out of a chauffeured Rolls-Royce just yesterday. Who exactly are these ‘common people’ you pretend to be so in touch with, hmm?” he murmurs quietly enough that the majority of the class probably can’t hear. Kyungsoo is so close that his breath tickles Jongin’s cheek when he speaks, and it fans the raging fire inside the junior.

 

“That’s not—it’s my mom’s okay?! They use it to ‘fetch’ me because they know I won’t force Minseok to drive back to the estate without me and get him fired,” Jongin splutters, before dropping his eyes from their shared gaze, feeling the senior’s focused pupils extract too much honesty from him. With furrowed brows, he stares at Kyungsoo’s feet instead, trying not to be overwhelmed by the senior’s distressingly good looks. But his eyes land on the elder’s Italian leather satchel, and the bag only serves to remind him of how much this prick surrounds himself with luxury and foreign goods, just like his— no. He tries to redirect the conversation back to the course topic at hand. “The real point is Super PACs think they should just be able to buy politicians, to make them their puppets, and we’re only making it easier for them. It’s wrong!” Jongin feels himself ranting but can’t stop it. “They symbolize everything awful about the top 1% and the kind of people who take advantage of tax loopholes and don’t pay their employees appropriate wages just so they can take pointless cruises around the Mediterranean with kids they don’t even care about and call it ‘family time,’ and I’m SICK of it!”

 

Jongin clenches his jaw as he remembers his mother’s weak pleas that he just set his ‘differences of opinion’ aside and go with them to Italy in December. Fuck that. He’s done pretending that his parents’ money and trips patch any of the holes between them that could be repaired with, you know, actual love and support. His dad just wants his presence to validate that he’s a good father, and his mom only pretends to care so their neighbors don’t inquire what’s happened to their once obedient Jongin whose hair is never that dignified, boring black anymore. Well, they can all sit on their cold piles of cash and talk shit about him for all he cares. He’s done pandering to them.

 

Dr. Lee’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Gentlemen, GENTLEMEN. Let’s stay on track here. I advise you to continue discussing your personal feelings after class over in the campus coffee shop, okay?” Professor Lee says with a good-natured chuckle to distill the tension in the room.

 

Trying to regain a bit of his dignity after revealing more than he intended, Jongin swallows thickly and hides back again behind his bad boy demeanor. Tsking his tongue at Kyungsoo, he tries for aloof in a hushed voice. “You wish. Sorry, no coffee date with me, preppy. I doubt we have much in common.” Jongin bats his eyelashes sarcastically to top it off convincingly before turning back around to the front. Half-expecting a final retort from the senior, he’s unnerved to catch Kyungsoo frowning lightly instead, almost in pity, like he didn’t even hear Jongin’s sass and was still hung up on the personal revelations from just before. Concern doesn’t look good on the elder’s porcelain skin, creating lines on his usually smooth, alabaster forehead; Jongin reminds himself he shouldn’t care. Doesn’t care. He slouches further into his seat.

 

He should feel like he’s won this round, having gotten the last word in and shutting up the senior. But all Jongin tastes is the bitterness in this ‘victory’ as he half-listens to Dr. Lee continue lecturing. He chooses not to speak for the remainder of class.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**NOVEMBER 16, 2015: Last Day of Autumn Quarter**

 

Any sympathy Kyungsoo felt for the hipster having a terrible relationship with his parents quickly dissipated, what with the junior constantly trying to push his extreme left ideas in every class discussion. Thank God the final Campaign Politics class ends, bringing the quarter to a close.

 

“Admit it. You’re going to miss staring at the back of my head.” Jongin’s hair, now silver-grey, falls a little in his eyes and Kyungsoo has to resist the urge to swipe it aside. The junior has kept his messy undercut style but recently added an all caps “BERNIE 4 PREZ” shaved into the back just above the nape. Jongin obnoxiously drags his fingers over the small hairs, underlying the slogan, and the movement makes the senior wonder what it’d feel like under his fingertips.

 

“Why on earth would I miss having my eyes assaulted by routinely bad dye jobs and socialist propaganda?” Kyungsoo retorts while calmly packing up all his things into his Fendi bag, taking longer than normal to gather up his myriad of note-taking materials. Is he lingering? He’s not lingering. Why would he linger.

 

Jongin rocks back and forth on his feet, puckering his thick lips into a doubtful expression. “I dunno, I think my talk about free public college for everyone is starting to sway you,” he sing-songs. “Maybe even universal healthcare is sinking into that cold,” an absent-minded fingertip traces over Kyungsoo’s chest in the middle of his Armani button-down, “hardened heart of yours.” Jongin’s eyes are hazy when the senior glances at him, and something about the whole atmosphere here is… off.

 

Squaring his shoulders, Kyungsoo slaps the tanned hand away from his rapidly beating heart, earning an indignant “ow” from the younger. “Not a chance. And I am not hard. I mean… I just — See you never,” he spits out before hastily leaving the classroom.

 

He strides quickly across the quad, focused on putting as much distance between himself and the despicable junior, reminding himself that now he won’t have to see the tall Bernie fanatic in class every week, and how that’s a good thing, and—

 

“SOO! Geez, wait up. I’ve been calling after you for like 2 minutes, damn,” pants Baekhyun, trotting to catch up. “What the hell was that?”

 

“What. Sorry, I just didn’t hear you. Lots on my mind,” Kyungsoo dismisses.

 

“Not out here, I mean that scene with Sanders’ stooge back there. Normally by the end of class, you’re both ready to brand ‘traitor to the Democratic party’ on each other’s foreheads. But for a second there today, I thought you were gonna… I don’t know…” Baekhyun hesitates, index finger tapping his lip in contemplation.

 

“You’re imagining things.”

 

Baek smirks and leans close with a conspiratorial air, the brim of his tweed newsboy cap bumping into Kyungsoo’s temple. “I didn’t even tell you what I was thinking. Why are you so quick to dismiss it as ‘just my imagination?’”

 

“Because you’re an idiot and the only reason you’re going to get a B in that class is thanks to my impeccable notes.” Kyungsoo pulls the newsboy cap down to cover his friend’s face and shoves him back by it. “I hate that hipster brat. Good riddance, not having to see him every week with that provocative smile and that atrocious hair in my face while I’m trying to learn,” Kyungsoo grumbles.

 

“Provocative, huh?”

 

“As in _offensive_ , dipshit.” He whacks the back of Baek’s head for good measure, to slap any misconceptions right off his mind. Kyungsoo’s ears burn. He blames the cold and his lack of a hat.

 

“You know, if it really bothered you, you could have moved seats,” Baekhyun says, looking off in the distance with a sly smile playing on his lips.

 

“Hell no. That’s my seat. Moving would have been letting him win.”

 

“Whatever you say. I think you started enjoying the view…”

 

“Shut up. I’m hungry. Let’s get food.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**JANUARY 15, 2016: Two Months til the Illinois Primary**

 

December was a whirlwind of canvassing activity for Jongin, as Sanders gained ground slowly but steadily in key pockets in Chicago. The holidays were quiet, as he stuck to his decision to stay on campus while his parents went to Europe. It wasn’t bad. Chanyeol kept him company, continuing to volunteer with him at the call centers and then inviting him to have Christmas dinner with his folks. All in all, it was peaceful.

 

Peaceful in part because he hadn’t crossed paths with Do Kyungsoo at all. No doubt, the snob was wherever his elite group holiday-ed. Maybe somewhere metropolitan like Hong Kong for a killer New Year’s Eve party, or maybe somewhere quiet and warm like an island in the South Pacific. Jongin has visions of the senior relaxed on a tropical beach, shirtless with martini in hand, cocky smile perpetually on his lips as he soaks in the su—

 

Jongin grinds the heels of his palms into his eye sockets to blur away the image. He grabs the bulky stack of pamphlets and checks with Yixing, their coordinator, which street corner they’re supposed to man today.

 

“Same place as usual?” Chanyeol asks, juggling a box of clipboards. A few clatter on the campaign office floor and the gangly boy stoops to gather them up.

 

“No, actually. A few blocks over from our typical spot. Dude, you want to trade?” Jongin offers, taking pity on the uncoordinated giant still fumbling around on the floor. Yeol gives him a grateful smile and takes the easier-to-manage pamphlet pile.

 

When they arrive at their assigned corner, Jongin frowns. It’s along the backside of a huge office tower, near the loading dock. “This can’t be right. Xing must have gotten the coordinates mixed up – let’s find the front entrance.”

 

Rounding the corner, they quickly get swept up into the bustle of pedestrians streaming in and out of the building. Perfect – the heavy foot traffic makes it easy for the two boys to distribute their campaign material and get names and contact info for people interested in getting Bernie updates.

 

Things go swimmingly for about 5 minutes before Jongin feels a demanding tap on his left shoulder and hears a deep, authoritative voice ask, “What do you think you’re doing here?”

 

Expecting building security, Jongin spins with an innocent smile on his face, ready to sweet talk his way out of trouble. He’s unprepared to see a pissed off Kyungsoo with arms crossed in front of him. Behind the senior, Baekhyun gives him a dainty finger wave and amused smile.

 

“Uh… spreading the word about Sanders and the upcoming primary,” Jongin replies dumbly.

 

“This is OUR spot.” The statement hangs in the air, as if it should be sufficient to get Kyungsoo what he wants. Self-absorbed prick.

 

Jongin laughs and gestures at the sidewalk. “I’m pretty sure this is a public walkway, not ‘Do Kyungsoo Ave.’ We have just as much right to be here as you.”

 

Chanyeol finishes giving his pitch to a middle-aged man and wanders over with a perplexed look. “Everything okay, Nini?” he asks, eyes flickering back and forth between the two. Baekhyun grabs the taller by the arm and tugs him off to the side, shushing him. “You’re just in time for the showdown. Let’s not interrupt – it’s more fun this way,” the auburn-haired boy winks.

 

Meanwhile, Jongin keeps up the staring contest he’s got going with Kyungsoo. With his obnoxiously ramrod straight posture and usual air of condescension, the senior lectures him. “We’re here every week canvassing for Clinton and have been for the past two months without incidence. I know you’re just ruffians with little sense of the decency and decorum necessary for politics, but surely you understand the concept of _precedence_?” He enunciates the last word with entitlement just spilling off his lips.

 

Exasperated, Jongin counters petulantly, “’Decency and decorum?’ Oh please, the whole world knows your candidate’s spouse let someone else go down on him while IN the sacred office of the presidency! Talk about _indecency._ ”

 

“Really?” Kyungsoo says, eyes flashing dangerously. He leans in, and Jongin tries not to gulp as he smells the boy’s expensive Bleu de Chanel cologne from how close they are. Quirking one of his prominent brows, Kyungsoo speaks in a low rumble. “You take that much issue with someone sucking cock?”

 

Such unexpected words from the usually proper boy leave Jongin stunned into silence, jaw dropped as he stares. The glint in Kyungsoo’s dark chocolate eyes reveal more lewdness than he could have ever imagined. “Pity,” he thinks he hears slip out from the elder’s heart-shaped lips, and his brain turns to mush as a surge of desire shoots through him. Jongin opens and closes his mouth a few times, failing to generate a comeback. With a satisfied smirk, Kyungsoo slowly withdraws from Jongin’s personal space, and the senior’s face returns to its typical prim and dignified expression.

 

“I wouldn’t bother using that weak attack against Hillary if you’re not prepared to back up your criticism when someone challenges it.” And with that, Kyungsoo turns on his heel and struts away, summoning Baek with a flick of his fingers to help him engage with some new passers-by to extol the virtues of their candidate. Baekhyun gives Yeol and Jongin a once over with a big grin before shrugging his shoulders and tailing after his friend.

 

Jongin can’t stop himself from staring at the preppy boy’s ass sauntering away and replaying the naughty words in his mind. Chanyeol jogs over and pats him on the back. “You alright? What’d he say?”

 

“I-it…” Jongin stutters with a deep blush. “It’s nothing. Let’s just work the other corner across the street and ignore them,” he suggests, tugging his friend’s arm and heading in the opposite direction of where Kyungsoo and Baekhyun are soliciting.


	2. Part II

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**MARCH 15, 2016: Illinois Primary**

 

Kyungsoo has had two blissful months without any direct confrontations with Jongin now. Sure, they see each other from time to time on campus or canvassing at nearby locations, but they’ve each kept their distance since their last heated exchange. More than once, he’s caught the hipster staring in his direction, but narrowed eyes or a middle finger seem to be enough to get the Bernie supporter to mind his own business.

 

Unfortunately, Kyungsoo has found his eyes wandering in Jongin’s direction, too. Probably just in awe of the fashion trainwreck he is, with those gross acid wash jeans that are more ripped than whole. Usually, Kyungsoo thinks he gets away unnoticed, but the one time they locked eyes directly, Jongin had pretended to yawn before bringing his fist to his mouth to make an obscene gesture, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. Kyungsoo gave him an unimpressed look that said _‘really, douchebag?’_ The senior turned away before his cheeks got too red, though; Jongin’s message was loud and clear. _‘You don’t intimidate me.’_

 

Yes, they’d kept a safe distance, with some unspoken understanding that close contact would be dangerous. But today, distance was going to be impossible, because it’s finally the Illinois primary. The big day they’ve been working toward for months. And they’re both stationed outside the polling location right off-campus.

 

Even though they are crammed in relatively narrow hedge in front of the building, Kyungsoo manages to avoid the hipster for the early afternoon hours. He blames the anxiety that’s buzzing under his skin on the excitement of the election. So far, his pitches have been going well. He’s had six undecided voters tell him they’ll vote for Hillary after hearing his spiel. He sees a young professional, clad in Gucci from head to toe, and approaches him with a bright smile.

 

“Hi there! How are you doing this afternoon?”

 

The stranger appraises him, eyes running quickly up and down his body, and gives him a crooked smile. “Hey, gorgeous.”

 

Well. Okay then. Kyungsoo doesn’t mind playing coy if it’ll get the guy to listen. “I’m here to share information about Hillary Clinton’s platforms and why she’s the most qualified presidential candidate we’ve seen in decades. If you don’t mind me asking, who did you come here to vote for today?”

 

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Why don’t you try to convince me, sweetheart? What’s your name?”

 

“Kyungsoo.”

 

“Kyungsoo, I’m Kris,” the tall man offers along with a handshake that lingers a tad too long.

 

Just as the senior is about to go over Hillary’s achievements as Secretary of State, he’s interrupted by a loud, “AYO WADDUP KRIS!” and startles as he sees that Sanders’ supporting friend of Jongin’s loping over towards them.

 

“Ayo wassup,” comes the reply, and then the two giants are doing some stupid, complex set of fistbumps and high fives. Oh God, the level of try hard here is middle school-ish.

 

“Dude, I haven’t seen you in like 8 years!” Chanyeol exclaims. (Well, that explains the dumb patty-cake routine.) “You just move back in town?”

 

With Kris and Chanyeol playing catch up, there’s no tactful way to interrupt about the election. Recognizing it’s a lost cause, Kyungsoo sulks away with his pamphlets and searches for another voter to sway.

 

He’s chatting with a college student about Clinton’s time in the Senate when Jongin suddenly appears out of nowhere. “All you really need to know,” the Bernie fanatic says to the student, “is that Hillary’s still under investigation by the FBI for crimes that could amount to treason.” And like a fart in the wind, he vanishes just as fast.

 

Kyungsoo tries to recover, but the student isn’t listening anymore. Frustrated, the senior scans the area and finds the object of all his rage. He marches straight up to Jongin to give him a piece of his mind.

 

“You jackass. How dare you ruin my pitch.”

 

“Oh please, your candidate ruined it, not me. What was it you told me last time? Only use attacks on Hills that I’m prepared to back up if challenged. I’m just taking your advice.” Jongin has the audacity to stick his tongue out at him.

 

Seeing that wet organ poking through the boy’s thick lips causes the heat in his gut flare, as anger and arousal swirl together in a dangerous combination. He ought to disengage, but there’s no way he’s backing down to this punk. Not today.

 

“You immature little shit. Fine, try mudslinging. See if I care.”

 

“It’s not too late to switch teams, preppy.” Jongin waves that same insufferable red-white-and-blue flyer that he’s been pushing on him since they met back in September.

 

“NEVER. When are you gonna give it up?!”

 

“Oh I’ll make you feel the Bern.”

 

Kyungsoo finally snaps. With a growl, he slaps the flyers up out of Jongin’s hand and throws his own high into the air with them. As the colorful leaflets proclaiming Hillary’s strengths and Bernie’s impassioned promises flutter around them in a messy whirlwind, Kyungsoo grabs Jongin by his slouchy sweater and yanks as hard as he can, causing their mouths meet in a violent kiss. It’s a sloppy mess of tongues and lips, noses bumping together as each boy desperately fights to take control and suck the air off the other’s lungs.

 

The crowd waiting to vote gasps and a few people let out approving whoops. “Well, now I’ve seen everything this election,” says one older lady to her friend.

 

Their aggressive make-out session is full of raunchy moans and way more teeth than Kyungsoo would ever deem appropriate for public consumption while in his right mind, but then again, he’s never in his right mind when this obnoxiously handsome hipster’s around. By the time Jongin’s hands settle on his ass, however, Kyungsoo snaps back to pseudo-reality and breaks them apart for air.

 

Dark, hooded eyes and a wild mess of brown hair, Jongin looks every bit as desperate as Kyungsoo’s feeling right now. The junior grabs him by the hand and starts walking, leading them away from the polling location and back toward campus in a hurry. Like he’s afraid someone might change their mind before they can get to a suitable place to continue. Kyungsoo is half-jogging to keep up with the long-legged boy’s pace, but then he comes to and jerks them to a stop on the tree-lined path.

 

“Wait!” he says. Jongin opens his mouth about to argue, because after all that _is_ what they do, but Kyungsoo beats him to it. “Did you get a chance to vote yet?” he asks sincerely, jerking a thumb toward the voting station behind him.

 

A delighted smile blossoms across the younger’s face. “So concerned about people doing their civic duty. I fucking love that about you.” Kyungsoo finds himself yanked up against a chiseled chest. His palms automatically paw at the defined pecs beneath the threadbare turtleneck sweater, and his desire to shred it and see what’s hidden under there spikes. Jongin’s grinning down at him, large tanned hands firm on his waist. “Yes, I already voted last week. Now come here.”

 

Jongin pulls him into a deep kiss, with hints of a different kind of need, but certainly no less demanding than before as their tongues push and pull in rhythm. The taller boy releases his mouth and starts hurrying toward one of the dorms, tugging Kyungsoo along.

 

They’re really going to do this, Kyungsoo reflects, staring at Jongin’s back as the boy fumbles with a mess of keys trying to unlock what’s presumably his dorm room. The rational side of Kyungsoo starts wading through the list of pros and cons of sleeping with this unruly frenemy. But the crease in Jongin’s broad shoulder blades is exposed right now, and Kyungsoo drags a fingertip down it, yanking the sweater down further so he can trail his tongue along the bumps of the taller’s spine and… ah fuck it. He’s gotta have him.

 

Jongin shivers under his mouth and a key finally slides in the lock. Thank God, because Kyungsoo was about ready to fuck him right here in the hallway.

 

They stumble forward into the room and then Kyungsoo feels himself get slammed back against the closed door. Jongin dives down to tongue at the sensitive skin behind his ear while eagerly loosening his tie. Kyungsoo groans and reaches around to squeeze the younger’s ass and run a finger up his clothed crack, feeling the junior rut forward in reaction. Panting hard against his ear, Jongin breathes out, “Hold on, hold on. Do you want to top or bottom?” The question is sincere and shit, Kyungsoo can’t even decide which way he’d prefer to drive Jongin crazy right now.

 

“Don’t care. I support a female president, so obviously, I don’t think being fucked or doing the fucking means anything in terms of power.” He repeatedly grinds his hips against Jongin’s, both boys enjoying the friction of their clothed cocks meeting below while mouths battle fervently above. In a husky growl, Kyungsoo finishes his thought. “But I’ll just warn you: whether I top or bottom, I’m in charge tonight.” With that heated declaration, he bites Jongin’s lower lip and relishes the hitching whimper he lets out.

 

“Bottom then. Damn, bottom for me, Soo.”

 

They make their way further into the small room, bumping against the narrow entry walls and shedding each other’s clothes bit by bit. Kyungsoo appreciates how easily the thin sweater glides up and over Jongin’s head when he gives it a harsh tug, and he wastes no time latching onto the now exposed skin of the junior’s collarbones. Jongin’s having a harder time undoing each of the buttons on his dress shirt, given how they’re currently glued together, the elder’s clothed chest against the younger’s bare one. The senior braces both hands on the wall beside the boy’s head as he continues to feast on the delectable tanned skin before him, taking a small step back so Jongin can finish unbuttoning him. Once he reaches the bottom, the junior attempts to rip the shirt off Kyungsoo’s shoulders, but the elder stops him.

 

“Wait. Cuff links,” he explains, undoing the platinum set by each wrist with skilled ease so that the shirt won’t catch, allowing it to slide down his arms to the floor.

 

Jongin groans while watching the actions. “You and your fucking fancy clothes. I’m going to destroy them with impunity next time,” he growls as he presses off the wall and attacks the elder’s lips with renewed vigor.

 

The words ‘ _next time_ ’ rattle around in Kyungsoo’s head a few times before he responds to the invasive tongue in his mouth, battling back as he digs his fingertips into Jongin’s hair. That once dye-trashed hair is now so silky smooth to the touch and just begging for pets. So he runs his hands through the locks a few times before sliding them down the boy’s smooth back. Kyungsoo spies the bed behind them and shoves Jongin back onto it, standing at the edge of the mattress and looming over him. God, he looks even sexier than Kyungsoo had always imagined he would, panting and laid out atop messy sheets. He can’t wait to touch, taste, feel every piece of him, and _now_.

 

“Damn, how do you pour yourself into these things?” After carefully unzipping the skinny jeans and freeing Jongin’s stiff cock, he tugs hard at the denim, growing frustrated.

 

Jongin just lays back on the bed and smirks. “It’s not easy, but it’s worth it to catch you staring at my crotch when you think I’m not looking.”

 

Kyungsoo pretends not to hear him and finally gets the jeans off the long legs and onto the floor. There’s no underwear to deal with, and he’s honestly not even surprised. One look at the swelling dick before him, and Kyungsoo yanks the younger’s legs over his shoulders and situates Jongin’s ass at the edge of the mattress. He lets the back of his tongue hit the tip of the boy’s cockhead and drags it slowly down the long shaft, laves it over each of his balls in turn, before trailing all the way down to Jongin’s entrance. A surprised “oh DAMN” echoes off the walls while he licks with the flat of his tongue. Kyungsoo uses his thumbs to pull the younger’s cheeks apart for better access to the twitching hole. As he twirls his tongue around the pucker, he feels Jongin’s thighs tighten around his neck and shoulder, trying to lift himself up and pull Kyungsoo’s tongue inside him.

 

“ _Fuck,_ Kyungsoo, I thought you said you were bottoming??” the junior cries out amidst a stream of pleasured ahs.

 

Kyungsoo laps at his entrance and murmurs against his ass cheeks, “I am. Is there some unwritten rule that I can’t eat you out unless I’m going to stick my dick in you?” He traces Jongin’s rim a few more times, giving a little tantalizing pressure right in the center but not pressing through the ring of muscle. “Hm, that’s a shame, but okay,” he says, withdrawing his tongue, leaving a wet nip on his left buttock.

 

Jongin releases a strangled scream and lifts his head off the bed to stare at Kyungsoo between his legs giving him his best shit-eating grin. As much as Kyungsoo enjoys the pressure of the junior’s thick thighs squeezing around his neck right now, he’d prefer not to pass out before he can get off, so he pries the younger’s legs open. “You’re an evil teas—” Jongin’s reprimand dies as Kyungsoo comes up and swallows his cock whole.

 

He sucks slow but hard, enjoying the feel of the dick growing even firmer each time it hits the back of his throat. Jongin’s hands are in his hair now, tugging to get him to move faster, but he swats them away and pulls off. “Don’t be such a pushy bitch – I don’t want you coming until you fuck me.”

 

“Then fucking get up here and let me!” Jongin grits out. Giving Kyungsoo no time to counter, the junior manhandles him onto the bed and rips off his slacks and boxer briefs in one go. Jongin kisses him, deep and dirty. “I’m gonna drill you so hard, you’re going to forget why you ever resisted,” he taunts.

 

“Doubtful,” Kyungsoo breathes against the other’s mouth, kisses turning shallow and sloppy as they’re both suppressing grins, enjoying the fact that their feisty competition carries over so seamlessly into the bedroom. Jongin breaks the kiss to dig in the nightstand drawer for lube and a condom. Kyungsoo takes the opportunity to goad him on. “You better not be all talk and no substance.”

 

“Oh I’ve got substance.” The younger takes his dick in hand and taps it against Kyungsoo’s heart-shaped lips. “And I’ll spill it all over this pretty mouth of yours if you push me too far. Now spread ‘em.”

 

Eager to get some attention of his own, Kyungsoo complies, letting his knees fall open. He shudders as he feels Jongin sink a lubed digit into him. The other doesn’t thrust in and out, though, content to play around, probing gently against each wall. “Damn, you’re like velvet.”

 

Frustrated and needy now that he’s got some part of Jongin inside him, Kyungsoo grinds down. “I’m not fragile, now come on, stretch me. Or is one all you think it’ll take to get me ready?” He grabs at Jongin’s dick which, truth be told, is absolutely nothing to scoff at, but the innuendo produces that angry face on Jongin that he just _adores_ and speeds things along.

 

The younger stuffs a second and third finger in him, making Kyungsoo curse and grip the sheets. The burn isn’t unwelcome, and Jongin actually waits a moment before moving, his free hand stroking Kyungsoo’s thigh. He pumps his fingers slowly and twists, exploring deeper with each slide into him now, watching Kyungsoo’s face for signs of what feels best. “AHH,” the senior moans when he strikes the right spot.

 

“Yeah?” Jongin asks, fingerfucking him steadily now while pressing harder against the same spot.

 

“Yeah,” he confirms, biting his own lip and closing his eyes as the pleasure washes over him with each prod Jongin gives him, rocking him a bit harder with every thrust. “Damn that’s good,” he pants out.

 

…and he should have anticipated that. Kyungsoo eyes fly open as Jongin purposefully moves away from his prostate and scissors him open at a gentler pace. “You bastard.” The younger hides his cocky smirk against Kyungsoo’s chest, peppering kisses against the smooth skin and sucking on a nipple until it’s erect and hyperstimulated.

 

“Ergh, enough!” He pulls Jongin off and out of him. Kyungsoo flips them so the younger’s underneath and tosses the condom on his chest. “Wrap up,” he commands as he searches the floor to find what he needs.

 

When he returns to the bed, Jongin is slathering lube over his now condom-encased member but freezes when he spots the tie in Kyungsoo’s hand. “What’s that for?” he asks warily.

 

“I’m convinced you can’t be trusted to let me set the pace, so I’m binding you. Don’t worry, I’ll just tie them in front.” Kyungsoo loops the tie around the boy’s wrists and ties a cross hitch knot with ease. Jongin is dumbfounded by the quick action. “Now who thinks boating is a useless hobby?” he says with a wink, and Jongin flashes a genuine smile before looping his tied hands behind Kyungsoo’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

 

“Okay preppy, show me what you’ve got.”

 

Kyungsoo ducks out of the hold and straddles the younger on the bed, ends of the tie loose in his left hand. Grabbing Jongin’s thick shaft with his free hand, he teases the tip at his entrance before pressing just the fattened cockhead through. Hot damn, the boy is huge.

 

“Don’t hurt yourself there,” Jongin attempts to tease, but his slack jaw shows how affected he is by the action. “Wishing I’d used f-f-four fingers now, aren’t you?”

 

Maybe. But like hell will he admit it. Kyungsoo just grunts at him and takes his time slowly easing down his dick.

 

Jongin grabs uselessly at one hip, trying to press the elder down all the way. Kyungsoo pulls on the tie to yank the hands away. “Patience,” he chastises, letting himself adjust before continuing all the way down until he’s fully seated, drawing out loud moans from both of them.

 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” the younger curses while pawing at the senior’s chest, and all pretense is out the window. “Oh God, you feel good, Soo.” He bucks upward almost involuntarily and makes Kyungsoo whimper.

 

The senior leans forward to balance on his hands and tucks his feet behind him in a reverse butterfly stretch, the top of each foot now anchoring Jongin’s thighs down into the mattress to restrict his movement. This position also tightens his ass further around the cock like a vise, causing the boy under him release another string of curse words and writhe, unable to thrust like he wants. “Settle down and let me ride you,” Kyungsoo instructs authoritatively through rapid pants. He feels so fucking full and even without movement, he can feel Jongin’s dick throbbing inside him, doing wonderful things to him.

 

“Okay, okay, just please, do it already,” Jongin pleads.

 

So Kyungsoo does, lifting his hips and enjoying the drag of the boy’s cock along his walls before dropping back down in a smooth motion. He keeps a languid pace, reveling in how well Jongin’s dick stretches him with each slide in and out. He can feel the younger’s thighs tensing, wanting so badly to meet each drop with a hard thrust upward. Jongin alternates between throwing his head back into the pillow and straining it up to watch Kyungsoo repeatedly sink down on his shaft.

 

“Come on, come on, come on, give it to me hard, Soo,” he begs. In a desperate move to speed him up, Jongin reaches for Kyungsoo’s dick, bobbing in front of him, only to get jerked back by the tie.

 

“No touching. ’m enjoying your cock too much, don’t wanna cum yet,” Kyungsoo manages to explain through labored breathing. Shit, Jongin feels perfect inside him. Leaning back, he sits all the way down to the root and swivels his hips in slow-moving circles, moaning obscenely at the dick deep inside pushing hard against his prostate. The leisurely pace and gentle motion seems to help Jongin get himself under control a bit, though he still looks wrecked lying back with his hair fanned out on the pillow.

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut, lost amid the pleasure. He listens to their raspy breaths and deep moans in the otherwise quiet room and starts to feel stirrings in his chest. Jongin’s fingertips are suddenly on his forehead, gliding down to stroke his cheeks and thumb at his plump lips. When he opens his eyes, he sees Jongin staring up at him in awe.

 

“God, you’re beautiful, Soo.”

 

Oh Jesus, this _is_ about feelings. Fuck, he’s not sure he’s ready to deal. “I know,” he replies with a lopsided smirk, hoping to steer them back to familiar ground. But Jongin doesn’t take the bait, still running his hands adoringly along the elder’s jaw.

 

So Kyungsoo goes back to riding him, harder than before to distract them from whatever-this-is. Half a dozen solid bounces on the junior’s cock, and the lust in Jongin’s eyes blazes again. Kyungsoo switches up the rhythm just to mess with the boy, building speed for a bit, then slowing back down, much to Jongin’s dismay. With a sinister smile, he cooes, “Mmm, maybe we should go nice and easy and see just how long you can last.”

 

“Damn it, Kyungsoo,” Jongin barks in desperation. “For 6 months, you have never taken it easy on me. Don’t you dare start now!”

 

The passion in the younger’s voice spurs Kyungsoo to rearrange his legs, giving Jongin back his ability to thrust. He hears the younger thank some higher power and plant his feet on the mattress behind him. When the elder next raises and lowers his hips, he feels Jongin’s hips snap up to meet him with a bang and lets out a filthy moan. They go hard at each other, skin slapping against skin. It's rough and hot, nearing out-of-control with both of them trying to ram Jongin's cock further up his ass.

 

When the younger's sensual groans are approaching a fever pitch, Kyungsoo tugs the boy up to a sitting position to slow things back down. Jongin takes the opportunity to smack their lips together in a frenzied kiss before nuzzling down to feast on his neck. Hot breaths fan over sweaty skin while they continue to rock and sway together, their soft lips pressing kisses to wherever is in reach: smooth temples, plush cheeks, corners of mouths. It’s good, so good, fucking so intimately on Jongin’s lap, but sneaky hands are brushing against his manhood and Kyungsoo decides he’s still not done yet.

 

He pulls the younger’s tied wrists up over his head til they’re looped around his waist to support him so he can lean back at a 45 degree angle. Kyungsoo plants his hands behind him for leverage and starts riding again in earnest, letting his head loll to the side in pleasure. Jongin lets out an appreciative noise at the view, bound hands grabbing at the senior’s ass, pulling the globes up and down to help Kyungsoo continue to fuck himself on his cock. This angle is perfect, Jongin’s fat cockhead massaging his sweet spot with each bounce. “Oh yes, oh fuck,” Kyungsoo babbles as he rides hard on the pulsing shaft. The pressure in his belly mounts as Jongin gives as good as he’s getting, the younger’s own string of expletives filling the air. A few more rough hits to his prostrate, and the rumbling heat beneath his skin consumes him like a forest fire from head to toe. Kyungsoo orgasms with a prolonged moan, creamy cum releasing into the air in waves. As his walls contract, he can feel Jongin spasm underneath him with a prolonged grunt before everything stutters to a stop.

 

Once he’s no longer dizzy with ecstasy, Kyungsoo undoes the tie behind him, pulls off of the younger’s dick, and collapses face first beside him on the mattress. His body’s still buzzing with post-orgasmic bliss when he hears Jongin speak through panted breaths:

 

“Holy shit we should’ve done that sooner.”

 

He laughs and turns his head to look at the junior.

 

“How much sooner?”

 

“I dunno. Day 1?” Jongin suggests, hands running over his face as he tries to get his breathing to even out.

 

“No way. Nice to know you’ve been thirsty since the start, but I hated you then,” he teases.

 

“Please. You’ve never hated me.” Jongin swats his shoulder with a grin.

 

Kyungsoo smiles and gazes into the younger’s eyes without replying. It’s true, he’s never hated Jongin. This beautiful, intelligent but aggravating paradox before him, so passionate and gutsy, determined to do things on his own and in his own way, even if it’s stupidly juvenile sometimes. He feels himself weakening as they continue to hold eye contact.

 

“We should get back,” Kyungsoo says softly.

 

“What? No. I’m sure Yeol and Baekhyun have got it covered. They don’t need us.”

 

Kyungsoo gives a skeptical look. “Chanyeol seems like the type to be looking for glasses that are already on his face, and Baek’s only going to graduate on time because I dragged his ass through every class he’s ever taken. They’re hopeless without us.”

 

“I’m tired,” Jongin ignores his assessment and tugs him on top of his broad chest, burying his nose in Kyungsoo’s hair. “Plus, most people have probably already made up their minds by now on who they’re gonna vote for. We’re not going to make much difference.”

 

“Actually,” Kyungsoo corrects, “data from exit polling suggests that up to 10% of voters decide who to vote for on the day they head to the polls.”

 

“Kyungsoo.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I love how you nerd out on this, but just shut up and let me hold you, okay?”

 

A smile spreads across the senior’s face as warmth blossoms in his chest. “Okay,” he whispers back, letting go of any remaining fears and wrapping his arms around Jongin’s waist.

 

With the younger’s soft breath caressing down the back of his neck and tan fingers carding through his hair, Kyungsoo relaxes. All battles over, his body and heart surrender to the peaceful atmosphere in the room, and the two boys drift off to sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jongin wakes up to an insistent alarm, blaring with a cadence that demands attention. He’s so comfortable, his long legs tangled up with Kyungsoo’s smooth ones, he doesn’t want to move. He forces his eyes open and is greeted with the senior’s sleeping face lying nose to nose with him on the pillow. Kyungsoo looks so soft while he sleeps, plush lips parted and hair in disarray. Jongin smiles to himself as he realizes why the alarm is obnoxious as it is: Kyungsoo is _still_ not disturbed from slumber yet.

 

“Hey,” Jongin whispers, petting the elder’s cheek. “Soo, your phone.” No response. “Kyungsoo, wake up,” he tries a little louder before sneaking a chaste kiss. A tiny noise escapes the boy’s mouth, making him sound like an innocent lamb in need of more sleep, and Jongin coos internally.

 

But that damn alarm persists, so it can’t be helped. “Kyungsoo!” he shouts.

 

The elder sits up with a grumble, rubbing his still-closed eyes. On autopilot, he moves in the direction of the obnoxious sound, fumbling with his pants before locating the phone and flopping back onto the bed with it in hand. It’s then that he seems to realize he’s nude. In a bed that’s not his own. With Jongin.

 

The junior holds his breath, not sure what to expect as he watches the recognition sink into the elder. Kyungsoo turns to face him.

 

“Polls are closed,” he says matter-of-factly, showing him the phone notification.

 

Jongin laughs at the unexpected decree. Oh, it must be 7pm. “Guess we missed the last hurrah,” he says with a smile, settling cautiously back into the mattress beside Kyungsoo.

 

As if sensing the hesitation, the elder takes one of his hands into his own and laces their fingers together, pulling Jongin onto him, reversing the original position they were in when they started napping. Jongin bites back a smile while settling onto the senior’s chest, trying to keep calm even though he’s screaming inside over the acceptance.

 

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, Jongin memorizing the rhythm of Kyungsoo’s heartbeat.

 

“Well, it’s been a long primary. Should we go to the campaign parties tonight?” he asks the senior.

 

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m comfortable showing my face at Hillary’s gathering and after-party for winning Illinois. Ya know, after sleeping with the enemy,” Kyungsoo quips, poking him in the ribs for emphasis.

 

Jongin chuckles. “Still confident as ever, I see.”

 

“To the bitter end.” Kyungsoo’s gentle hands rubbing up and down Jongin’s bare back give him a boost of confidence and send a thrill down his spine.

 

“What if we just stayed in? We could watch the news roll in on the TV and just…” Jongin lets his voice trail off as he kisses up Kyungsoo’s jaw and carefully licks into the senior’s mouth, tantalizingly slowly, feeling the older boy soften in his arms under the attention. They make out languidly, without the rush or tension from earlier. Just two roving tongues exploring every smooth space of the other’s mouth.

 

After several minutes of delicious bliss, Jongin retreats with three gentle, closed-mouth kisses on those pillowy lips before checking Kyungsoo’s expression. The elder looks almost woozy with relaxed pleasure.

 

“Are you really asking me to choose between my allegiance to Clinton and great sex?”

 

“So you admit it was great, then,” the junior says with a coy smile.

 

“Of course it was,” Kyungsoo says in that straightforward manner Jongin just can’t get enough of. “I was in charge, and I never do anything half-assed.”

 

The younger boy laughs openly, not feeling the need to match egos for once, and he’s rewarded with the senior dropping his bravado as well, cracking a half-cocked smile at him instead.

 

Jongin can’t resist pressing another kiss to the corner of that delectable mouth. Kyungsoo captures his bottom lip, giving it tender attention with a swipe of his tongue before sucking it between his own. The elder starts nipping at the swollen lip more insistently, coaxing the younger to match him in a slew of passionate love bites.

 

Kyungsoo reaches down and firmly palms the younger’s rock-hard erection, doing it as casually as if checking the status of the weather. Jongin breaks the kiss as he moans wantonly and ruts into the touch.

 

The senior’s chest rumbles with a deep, sultry chuckle. “So I guess we’re staying in, then.” Jongin has dropped his forehead down onto the older boy’s chest, his stuttered breathing ghosting across Kyungsoo’s pecs as the senior uses his deft fingers to roll his balls while dragging the heel of his palm up and down Jongin’s dick. Unsure if he’d be able to vocalize a response without sounding like a needy whore, Jongin just nods his agreement, nose dragging up and down Kyungsoo’s toned chest with the motion.

 

With his free hand, the senior brushes back the younger’s hair from his ear and pulls Jongin by the neck toward him to suckle on his lobe. “Wanna switch?” Kyungsoo whispers, plush lips grazing along his inner ear.

 

“Yes. Yes please,” he nods furiously.

 

“Good, that means you’ll let me eat this ass this time?” Kyungsoo asks with a playful smack to his butt.

 

“This time? Anytime,” Jongin admits, groaning at the senior sliding a finger between his cheeks to tease the nerve endings around his hole. “You’re the one who quit for no reason, idiot,” he murmurs, biting at the elder’s collarbones.

 

“Oh I had my reasons,” Kyungsoo croons with a deep voice and devilish smile. “But I’ll make it up to you. Get up here.”

 

Jongin’s moans echo down the dorm hallways as he rides Kyungsoo’s face, praising the boy’s oral skills through garbled speech. He finds he can better express his appreciation by falling forward and wrapping his lips around Kyungsoo’s cock, giving sloppy but enthusiastic head until the elder forces him off with a promise to ‘fuck him good and proper.’ Between the feverish kisses and Kyungsoo rocking balls deep into his ass repeatedly as the elder stands alongside the bed with bruising fingers digging into hips, they lose all track of time.

 

They never even bother with the election results.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**JULY 26, 2016: Democratic National Convention**

 

Well, it was a good run. Bernie does well for a guy who isn’t a household name like Clinton, but comes up short: Hillary secures the Democratic nomination. Jongin has no regrets over the election season. He supported his chosen candidate the best he could, was true to himself, and accepts the loss as graciously as he can. Thankfully, Kyungsoo doesn’t gloat. (Much.)

 

They’ve been dating for a few months now, and every day Jongin appreciates a new aspect of his boyfriend. Kyungsoo graduated at the top of his class just a few months ago and had half-a-dozen job offers from top consulting firms in New York and LA. All the positions were earned the traditional way, with Jongin witnessing the elder slave over job applications and prep for multiple rounds of interviews. It was never spoken aloud, but he knew Kyungsoo was making a point to show that he wouldn’t use connections from his dad to land one of the coveted positions: he could do it on the basis of his own merits. In the end, he’d turned down the big firms in favor of a local start-up in Chicago, insisting he ‘wanted a challenge’ and would have ten times the say in the future of this company.

 

‘Oh yeah. The money is still stellar, too,’ he’d said with a wink. And so they’ve just finished moving Kyungsoo from the apartment his parents’ owned to his new fancy downtown condo, half an hour away from campus where Jongin will still live for his senior year.

 

Tired from carrying box after box of the graduate’s fancy suits from his old closet to his new, they’re flopped on the sofa in the living room. Aside from hanging up the ridiculous wardrobe that Jongin still doesn’t understand, the only thing unpacked so far in the place is the flat screen TV. Priorities.

 

They munch on a random assortment of chips and nuts, too tired to cook, while watching the wind down of the Democratic National Convention. Kyungsoo grumbles as the pundits on the TV talk about Clinton’s chances versus Trump’s and how Sanders might have been a better match to win against the vitriolic orange man. “I swear, if Trump wins, I’m leaving the country.”

 

Jongin grunts in matching distaste. “I’ll be coming with you.”

 

The recent grad pops another cashew nut in his mouth, tongue swiping out to lick the salt off his plush lips, as he arches an eyebrow at the younger. “Oh? A little presumptuous, don’t you think? We’ve only been together 4 months, Jongin,” he teases with a straight face.

 

“I didn’t mean… you know I was talking _in general_ , not like that we’d move _together_ exactly,” the younger trips over his words, stealing the jar of nuts from Kyungsoo’s hands and turning toward the TV, trying to tone down the flaming red can he feel in his cheeks.

 

The older boy tries to suppress an amused smile, without success. He turns fully toward his boyfriend and inquires, “Oh really? So who exactly are you moving with then? Your ultra conservative parents who will undoubtedly be thrilled with a Trump presidency? Or are you going to go all by yourself, even though you can’t make grilled cheese without setting off smoke alarms? I fear you might starve alone like that, if the kitchen fire doesn’t get you first.”

 

Jongin purses his lips, determined not to crack first and let the elder win this one. “I’ll go with Chanyeol. He’ll be looking for a way out, too,” he declares, still facing the TV but sneaking a quick glance at Kyungsoo’s reaction out of his peripheral vision. Bingo.

 

Kyungsoo’s face contorts into a snarl. “Like hell you will. That goof can’t even get the courage up to directly ask Baek out, asshole always trying to just ‘make him jealous’ by getting all touchy-feely with you whenever Baek’s around. Someone so cowardly and stupid is going to help you navigate a new country and culture? Yeah right,” he barks.

 

Jongin laughs and turns to his boyfriend, knowing he’s won this time, getting the other to stop posturing and surrender to real emotions first. Kyungsoo never has warmed to Yeol, even though he claims it has nothing to do with jealousy over the giant’s excessive skinship. (Suuure. Jongin may or may not have asked Chanyeol to keep it up. Angry sex with Kyungsoo is _wild._ )

 

“Well what do you think I should do, then?” the younger asks playfully.

 

“Move in with me.”

 

“What?” Jongin softens in surprise. The line was delivered in typical Kyungsoo fashion: not a question so much as a formal declaration, his voice carrying his signature commanding tone that always makes Jongin pine. But this contrasts with the elder’s tender expression and caring eyes. “You’re serious. You mean now? This summer?” Jongin clarifies carefully.

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes stare deep into his as the elder nods. “Yeah. Right now. I’ll take you to campus before I go into work in the mornings and pick you up after if you still don’t want to accept a car from your parents.” Kyungsoo’s tone again makes it sound like the matter is settled, the only potential kink in the plan ironed out by this practical solution, but his body language betrays his underlying feelings as he takes Jongin’s hand into his, cautiously thumbing over the back of his knuckles while waiting for a response. How could a man sound so confident yet look so vulnerable at the same time?

 

Jongin squeezes their intertwined hands to get Kyungsoo to look back up at him. “I’d love that,” he says with a gentle smile. “I love you, Kyungsoo.”

 

A wide, heart-shaped grin spreads on the elder’s face before he swallows hard. Trailing a fingertip down the side of Jongin’s face, the elder leans in for a kiss. “I love you, too,” Kyungsoo says just before their lips touch.

 

The primaries are over tonight, but there are no losers in this cozy living room. Just two hearts that fought hard, and both won.

 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story! I really wanted to do the prompt justice and also impress my dear friend kaissbitch, lol. In the end, this fic received so much love in the fest - I'm overwhelmed. There is a sequel (Sail Away With Me)! Click the next work in the series down below to read it :D If you're a friend/previous reader of my works, I've missed you guys!!! Please talk with me in the comments ^^ If you're a new reader, hi there! Please let me know what you think; I always reply to comments :)
> 
> My other fluff fic: [Birthday Roulette](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8567134)
> 
> Til next time <3
> 
> At1stsight/at1stsoo
> 
> [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/at1stsoo) | [Tumblr](http://at1stsoo.tumblr.com)


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